


The Right-Now

by thelma_throwaway



Series: The How-It-Was [8]
Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knifeplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rating: NC17, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelma_throwaway/pseuds/thelma_throwaway
Summary: (NC17!) "You got no lock on your door and poor familial boundaries."
Relationships: Jayne Cobb/River Tam
Series: The How-It-Was [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592782
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	The Right-Now

**Author's Note:**

> NC17!! Very graphic, porn (but with evidence of character development). everyone 18+ and enthusiastically consenting.

The center falls in unexpectedly. They’ve been circling tighter and tighter, one chasing and the other leading, then switch. Around in circles. She steals his gun in the middle of a scrap, he kisses the line of blood off her cheek on the way home. He says something ugly, she wiggles her foot into his lap at breakfast. It could go on forever.

There’s nothing special about this job, nothing close to the day she’d wiped the shoju from his lips and he’d pressed close against her hips in the junkyard. Jayne has returned to that moment so many times, imaging that they’d had just ten minutes more. He’dve popped her right back on the thresher and fished the gold out of her panties himself. It’s got so he can’t see a box of spare engine parts without the blood pumping to his thighs. 

Today it was in and out, back on board. Mal counting the money. No need to take off in a hurry, they were white hats today. All he gets is a hand on the small of her back when a cruiser cuts close on the street. And her fingers sliding over his as they pass a bottle of gun oil.

“You name it yet?” He sharpens a large knife on a wetstone, back and forth and back and forth. She’s cleaning her gun but not really minding her hands, waiting for him to finish with the blade.

The noise of the wetstone has her body tingling, chest taut, a dull itch dragging up and down her her center. He doesn’t see the symmetry, the day she slashed his chest and he’d knocked her across the room. He hadn’t felt bad-- her eyes had said fair’s fair.

“No.”

He wipes the knife down at last, holds out for her to test. A hand spreading over either of his knees, she leans forward to snake her tongue up the edge of the blade. A fine line between testing the sharpness and slicing the mouth in two. 

He stares at her plain, lets the shivers run through him. His cock jerks a little under his zipper. Not much of a romantic but this isn’t romance. It’s an understanding. A shared vocabulary. 

“More?” River presses her lips to the sharp edge and nods.“Then spit.”

Her throat nearly closes at his command but she summons up a mouthful. 

“Again.” She does. Saliva slinks down her lip and she darts a sharp pink tongue out to wipe it clean.

He picks up the wetstone. She’s still leaning forward, mouth open, panting slightly though she doesn’t realize it. Back and forth, the dull edge of the blade almost grazing her collar. He’s pretending to watch his hands, she stares intently into his dilating pupils. His bloods hot, her pulse is fast. 

He puts down the stone and uses the flat of the knife to push her hair behind her shoulders. 

“Listen smartypants.” One of her straps has fallen down. Jayne drags the dull edge of the blade up her arm, across the bare top of her breast and back, hooks the loose strap over the tip and replaces it on her collarbone. She sighs, flushed, and he presses the cool flat of it against her cheek. “You’re gonna have to use your words,  _ dong ma _ ?”

“What words?” She doesn’t want the chase to end. 

“Like--Yes. Okay. Keep going.” He traces her profile with the sharp tip, careful not to scratch. Whether they expected it or not they’ve run up on the finish line. She might get spooked, never let him rest his hand on her thigh again. They could be friends, he supposes. Maybe. “Only way it’s gonna work.”

  
“You want me to talk dirty to you, Jayne Cobb?” 

“Later.” He smirks, lifts the blade from her chin and rests it one last time against her throat before it setting it aside. Her whole being contracts and expands, her hands slide up his thighs and squeeze hard. His arms are by his sides, palms up. “Tell me plain. You want this? All of it?”

The bottom falls out, and River drops through it. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, okay. Keep going.”

Jayne cups his hand around her face and pulls her close, hand buried in the hair at the nape of her neck. “I was looking for ‘yes sir’ but we’ll work on it.” 

He kisses her throat and she slides onto his lap, crying out when he nips at the pulsing vein at her collarbone. 

“Shhh.” One hand skates down her spine to grab hold of her ass. He spreads his fingers wide, palming both cheeks and pulling her closer. He feels for a panty line, grinds up against her when he finds none. “Uhhnn..Don’t give us away now.”

“There’s no one around.” 

“Yeah but you got no lock on your door and poor familial boundaries.”

“No one is going to bother us.” She’s gone shopping with Kaylee. Candles and lace, a silky black blindfold. So sweet she and Simon were with each other. Here River is wondering how to ask Jayne to close his hand around her throat and let her gasp for air. 

“That why you wore this little get-up?” She’s taken to wearing loose old button-ups and tight pants, an olive army jacket when they go planetside-- no bra. Tonight she’s in a pale and slippery dress, slightly see-through in the light. Nothing between the heat radiating from her center and him. He wonders how many jobs she’s worked full commando. Maybe even that night in the junkyard. He can feel his blood pumping like it doesn’t know where to go. 

“You like it?” She eases back to give a better view and the thin straps fall to her elbows. He nibbles his way down her chest, leave red blossoms on her skin. Her hands find his cock, feeling it throb under her hand like the recoil of a gun. A clever finger undoes his belt, the top button of his trousers, then zips him halfway down. 

“ _ Wuh de ma _ , I’d take you in a spacesuit.” He lets go of her neck and sweeps clean the low table they’d be working on. She laughs as he lays her back, hands still scrambling to feel him grow. He knocks them away and surveys her spread before him.

Her cheeks are flushed, eyes dilated and hazy. She begins to slide the hem of her dress up her thighs. “Schroedinger’s girl. Is she or isn’t she?”

He remembers she is still a raw nerve, scar tissue pink and tender despite her outward appearance. He lays his hands over hers, guides them above her head. “Leave it. We’re going slow as can be.”

Jayne runs the rough pads of his fingers along the soles of her feet, her legs, memorizing this unexpected scene. River splayed out and panting, calves locked around his back. The condensation on her chest. The smell wafting from beneath her dress, her hands held obediently at her crown. He follows the curve of her hips, her stomach, her breasts. The fabric is slippery beneath his palms, clinging to the places where sweat gathers on her skin. 

“What are you waiting for,” she snaps. “Open me up.” 

Slow as can be. His hands find their way back to her thighs and disappear under the hem of her dress. He snarls with pleasure when he feels the downy cover of curls. 

“Surprise,” she gasps and squirms lower against his hands. He strokes her, his thumb seeking out the swollen little pearl he’s learning just how to touch.

“You’re doing a lot of talkin’ today.” She’s slick and shaking. He strokes lower.“Say something dirty.”

“Fuck me,” she moans. 

“More.” He teases her with the tip of a finger, round and round.

“Bend me over, smack my ass ‘til its red.” He laughs and pushes in. She tightens around his finger and pulls deeper. “Don’t laugh at me!” 

He grins, gives her a little spank on the swell of her thigh. All those smart, pretty, ten-credit words she’s tangled up knots since he met her and here she is now, stretched out for him and cursing like a campfollower. “Yer mighty frank, River.”

Her heart and stomach knot when he calls her by her name. “Ooooh..bury yourself in me. Fill me up.”   
  


“Awww, bet this the most filled up you ever been.” He pumps his hand experimentally, thumb still working a slow circle on her clit. She lets out a brittle cry. “That true? My finger bigger’n any cock you had?”

“There’s been others,” she smirks, rippling her muscles around him.

“Oh, I seen a few a’ them.” The memories raises field of goosebumps on his chest and arms. Jayne isn’t jealous. He enjoys the idea of her with someone else, proper fucked or left disappointed (and hereafter--- slinking to his bunk for more).

“I like when you catch me.” Her hands drift down to tease at her chest straining through her dress, then one goes up around her own neck as her hips rock against him. “You like it too.” 

“You have your fun, I have mine.” He watches her hand grip at her throat, notices where she presses her thumb when she shudders around him. He teases another finger and pushes in, rougher than before. She moans and laughs, pinching his side between her toes “Might ruin you to other men.”

She’s grinding over his knuckles in time with his thumb running around her clit. “Well, there’s a whole ‘verse of girls.”

A hot bolt of surprise and pleasure runs up from his balls to the little knot of nerves at the base of his skull and he groans deep. She smirks and bats her lashes, blowing him a kiss. 

“Move yer hands. Use yer words.”

Now she’s pink and flustered, her dress slipped down over her tits and up to her waist. Hands back above her head like he told her to. From the noises she’s making he knows she’ll do whatever he says to get over the top. If he pulls away now, wipes his hand on the flimsy little excuse for a dress she’ll probably combust. Slowly slowly, he slips his fingers out, one thumb replacing the other to gently pinch and roll her while he crawls his wet fingertips to her mouth. She barks in frustration but takes them, tongue running from knuckle to tip and back again before sucking hard. 

“What you want?” He works the two fingers between her lips one at a time.

“That..uhmmm..  _ Wu de ma!. _ . cock.” 

“ ‘was that?”

“That...cock,” she moans again. 

“Whose?”   
  
“Y--oooooh!--y-your cock!” 

  
“Not today,” he laughs. It rumbles through her and she arches up, giving a little groan of despair. “Game don’t have to end just yet.”

She makes a wild, frustrated sound and pushes herself up to meet his mouth with her bared teeth. He leans his head back and lets her bite land hard on his throat. He pulls her back into his lap, hands pressing down her hips just enough to hold her in place while she grinds against the swell of him. “Jus’ a warm-up, sweetheart.”

She ripples against him, snarling into his neck and cursing away. Her nails scratch down his back and shoulders. He wraps her hair in a thick cord around his fist and holds tight. If she wants a hand on her throat she’ll have to ask. He’s going to enjoy finding every button to press. 

“Jaaaaynnnee.” She’s shaking in his wet lap, neck arched back. “Uhhh!”

“That’s it.” He yanks on her hair, and her body breaks and breaks again against him. She mashes his shirt between her teeth to keep from screaming out loud. Jayne looks down at her, red and damp and quivering and he empties out, letting go of everything.

She breathes heavy, little aftershocks making her giggle and shake. His tshirt is still clenched in her jaw. He unwinds her hair from his fist and starts laying soft kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. It had been urgent, frenzied. He wants her to know he does care. They hadn’t even kissed proper, so he makes up for it with a long, firm one holding her close and still. He can still taste her on her own lips, musky and sweet.

“Mmmmm.” After awhile she breaks away to lay her head on his shoulder, softly scratching her fingers across his beard like a dog behind it’s ears. 

“More where that came from.” It’s the first time they’ve come together, not one or the other up against an alley wall or in the back of a dirty picture show. Teenage shit, Jayne thinks now. All the hiding and sneaking. It was hot and all, but left him aching for more each time. His cock hadn’t even left his pants tonight but he feels more satisfied than the first time her coy little hand had slipped under his belt and boxers to hold him firm. “More where that came from.”

“Yeah?” 

“Alls ya gotta do is ask. I’ll never deny you.” Her nails stop midscratch and she peers up at him, a shadow of doubt on her brow. “What? Think I can’t handle ya?”

“No.” She grins and nibbles her bottom lip. “I think I’ll run you ragged.”

He growls, gathers up her throat in one hand and her ass in the other and presses her so close his lips move against hers when he corrects, “I think I’ll run you ragged,  _ sir _ .”

River gasps, eyes shining with pleasure. She feels something needful coil tighter deep within her, a hot shiver run from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. She flicks the tip of her tongue against his bared teeth and laughs. “I think I liked it better when you were scared of me.” 


End file.
